


Casual

by Naralanis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Random - Freeform, established Cissamione, idk - Freeform, maybe this counts as fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naralanis/pseuds/Naralanis
Summary: Narcissa needs some help picking out an appropriate Muggle attire.





	Casual

**Author's Note:**

> All I can say is... this was random. 
> 
> ~Naralanis

“Oh, my Merlin.  _Narcissa_ ” Hermione gasped, looking at the trail of utter destruction the blonde had left in their bedroom. “I told you to dress  _casual.”_

Narcissa responded with an indignant huff, stepping away from the piles and piles of clothes strewn about the room. “Pray tell, how is  _this_ not casual” she prodded, motioning vaguely at the silk summer dress she wore. The periwinkle one Hermione had gifted her a few birthdays ago, the one that brought out her eyes beautifully whenever she wore it. The one with the fine, real-actual-gold embroidery. 

“In what world is that casual?” the brunette asked in disbelief. Narcissa looked at her as if she had grown another head. 

“In every world!” she contested. “Observe; I am not wearing my robes, simply a dress.” She looked at the exposed skin below her knee, eyeing her nude stilettos critically. “Truly, I do believe it may be pushing the limits of propriety; perhaps I ought to put on the robe after all.”

“Sweetheart,” Hermione groaned, rubbing her temples. “What we need is  _Muggle_ casual. You’re dressed for a summer wedding at Buckingham Palace!” Her eyes suddenly darted to the glimmering metal ornament that wound itself through Narcisa’s elegant braided hair. “Godric, is that  _gold_??”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Narcissa retorted with a scowl, deftly swishing her hair so that the intricate adornment practically glittered in the light. “It’s polished bronze,” she quipped with a smile. “Much more casual.”

“Cissy” Hermione murmured, trying hard to gather all of her patience. It was so easy to forget how clueless Narcissa was about the Muggle world. She might be the most fashionable person in whatever room she walked into, wizarding and Muggle alike, but the woman simply had no earthly concept of the meaning of the word casual. It had taken Hermione three months to make her stop wearing heels around the house, for Merlin’s sake.

With a sigh, Hermione stepped forward, taking Narcissa’s hand and giving her a playful twirl amongst the mess of clothing that littered their floor.

“Honey,” she began again, noting the hint of disappointment in Narcissa’s eyes at her obvious frustration. “You look beautiful – you always do. But this” another twirl, this time to evoke a smile, “is just not appropriate for where we’re going.”

Narcissa pouted. “Muggles are impossible! This is a Muggle dress” she argued, grasping the fabric of her skirt in annoyance, “these are Muggle shoes. I thought I’d be better at this.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh – she had thought so too. Narcissa was a regular fashion diva in the Wizarding World; she had even contributed a piece or two to the columns of  _Witch Weekly_  on the subject. Her inability to even consider the existence of something as mundane as a t-shirt – despite seeing Hermione wear such things – could be endearing at times. 

“And they look great” Hermione reassured her, tenderly stroking her cheek. “But we’re going to a bloody  _theme park_ , Narcissa. You’ll need something a bit more casual than that.” She gave her girlfriend yet another once-over. “Actually,  _way_ more casual.”

Narcissa threw her arms up in defeat. “This is madness! How can I be  _more_ casual than this?”

“Simple,” Hermione said kindly. “Have you ever considered wearing...” she paused dramatically, eyeing Narcissa with mirth. “... jeans?”

Narcissa scowled. “ _Those_?” She said with more than a hint of disgust. “Absolutely not. I would not be caught dead in a pair of... of...”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Jeans. They’re just trousers, Cissy – I promise you they can be quite comfortable. I wear them all the time.”

“Yes,” Narcissa conceded. “But you... you are...” she stuttered. 

“Part-Muggle?” Hermione asked with a quirked brow. 

“No, no” Narcissa was quick to counter. “You’re... young.”

Hermione stared at her girlfriend, slack-jawed. “How... how is that an issue as far as trousers are concerned??” Her gaze turned mischievous. “I’ll have you know, Muggles do make jeans for dinosaurs like you.”

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. “You’re treading on thin ice, Hermione Granger. You really ought to respect your elders” she hissed. “I might as well not go at all. Tell your parents I’m terribly sorry, but I simply cannot make it – tell them I got food poisoning from the Old McDonald.”

Hermione snickered. “McDonald’s -- as if they’d ever believe you chose to step foot there. And you’re coming! You  _promised._ ”

Narcissa huffed in frustration and flopped herself down onto their bed, displacing yet another pile of clothes that eventually toppled over onto the floor. “It’s useless. I can’t dress as a Muggle.”

The young brunette kneeled in front of Narcissa, admittedly a little amused at the difficulty the other woman had with something that she thought so simple. Then again, she remembered vividly how difficult it was to assimilate to so many things in the Wizarding world. She had the help of her friends and her school to navigate all that. All that Narcissa needed was a little push. 

“Of course you can,” she reassured, kindly tucking a stray lock of Narcissa’s hair behind her ear. “You just need a little help. Now,” she stood, helping Narcissa up. “We’ll start with a comfy, theme-park friendly top.”

Narcissa looked fearful as Hermione rummaged through the drawers on her side of the dresser. The brunette searched for a short while, and then resurfaced triumphant with a black t-shirt in hand. 

“Oh, no” Narcissa groaned. “I don’t think I can wear  _that”_ she shuddered, pointing at the words emblazoned in hot pink on the tee. “It sounds absolutely dreadful!”

Hermione laughed. “Don’t worry,  _Sex_ _Pistols_ were a Muggle band. Humour me, please?” The young witch turned her best puppy-dog look to Narcissa – she knew the blonde would never say no to that.

“Salazar’s sakes, you’re insufferable.” Narcissa sniffed, but relented, grasping the shirt with another roll of her beautiful blue eyes. Hermione had to struggle to keep on task rummaging through her dresser as Narcissa disrobed in one fluid movement, discarding her dress without a care in the world. 

“Good,” Hermione said, fighting the flush creeping up her cheeks. Narcissa smiled at her smugly, fully aware of the effect she had on the brunette. “Here, try these on.”

Narcissa eyed the black denim trousers warily, but finally relented. Hermione laughed out loud at the blonde’s look of utter wonderment as she daintily pulled the garment over each leg. She looked briefly confused at the zipper, but Hermione was quick to step in, pulling it up in one swift movement. 

“Merlin, you look hot,” the young witch confessed, avoiding looking too long at Narcissa’s long legs, now encased in skinny jeans that were oddly tantalizing. Narcissa didn’t look old, by any means, but the shirt and black pants made her look positively... jovial. Her beaming grin in response made her look outright giddy. 

“They're not so bad!” she exclaimed in amazement. “They are actually quite comfortable, despite being skin-tight. Though I’m still not entirely sold on the shirt.”

“Woman, you look positively delectable. Let me get you some shoes, and then we’ll be ready to go.”

Narcissa smiled wickedly. “Delectable, eh?”

“Shut it” Hermione groaned, ducking into their shared closet to look for appropriate footwear – thankfully she and Narcissa wore nearly everything of the same size. Her gaze lingered on a pair of Dr. Martens, but she figured those would be a little much. “Try these,” she yipped, coming out waving a pair of shoes toward her girlfriend. 

“Damn, Hermione! What are  _those?”_ Narcissa mocked, looking utterly scandalized at Hermione’s battered Converse trainers. 

“Trainers. Sit, I’ll help you put them on. And get that ridiculous hair thing off; you can wear it when we go to a Renaissance Faire.”

Narcissa sat on the bed, undoing the intricate golden accessory like a recalcitrant child. Hermione busied herself with removing Narcissa’s stilettos and replacing them with her well-worn trainers, ignoring Narcissa’s exaggerated pout as she did so. 

“Pity,” Narcissa commented as Hermione put the stilettos away. “I do so like being the taller one.” 

“Well, not today.” Hermione said with a smile, enjoying the view of the great Narcissa Black, sitting in bed in jeans and a t-shirt, with her blonde hair now tousled and wild around her fair features. “There. You look great. Though... I think there’s something missing.”

“What  _more_ could I possibly put on?”

“These.” Hermione quipped, stepping towards her nightstand and reaching into the drawer. She pulled out a pair of Ray-Ban wayfarers and gingerly nestled them onto Narcissa’s nose and ears. 

“I suppose it’ll have to do” Narcissa huffed, giving herself a side-eyed glance on the mirror to the side. Hermione could tell that, despite the initial discomfort, Narcissa was thoroughly enjoying the new look. “Are you happy now?”

Hermione grinned. “Extremely.”


End file.
